I’m lounging here on my new deck
This warm summer’s afternoon
Sipping a glass of red wine
High above the horizon
A jet move slowly across the sky
Leaving a dripping vapor trail
That reaches around the world
I measure the many places
I have traveled in my life
Fond memories remote
From stress and structure
You would ask which would be my favorite?
The vapor above spreads
And falls away to softly disappear
As do my measuring thoughts
Now, to be wholly satisfied to find
My favorite place is Home
Yet, this writers notebook, this virgin deck,
This very red glass of wine
Salute the sweetest of memories
Never gone………. but still abound
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Indeed there is no place like home.
Your poem reminded me of another long ago No Place Like Home
Beautiful Poem!